Shit, shit, shit. She couldn’t back out now. And if Heather even knew she was wavering, she would be kicking Katie in the butt right now. Besides, she owed it to Johnny to be as forthcoming as possible. Grow a pair, she thought to herself, and took a deep breath. “It’s too loud here. And crowded. Is there somewhere else we can talk?”
“Ooooh, secret-y stuff,” Johnny teased. Katie frowned at him, then nodded. “There are a couple of dressing rooms back there.” He pointed behind Katie to a couple of doors against a wall. “Will that work?”
“It’ll do,” she said, moving that direction at the insistence of his outstretched hand pointing the way.
Chapter Twelve
Johnny and Spawn of Satan had left town a few weeks earlier, and Katie was feeling restless. She had been working at an ice cream parlor several evenings a week and socking away her money for college.
One afternoon in early August she was doing what she always did on payday: spending one-fourth of her paycheck on things she wanted, mostly music, clothes, makeup, jewelry, and books. The rest of the money she put in a savings account she’d opened right after graduation with money relatives had sent for the occasion. She got home later in the day, toting two bags through the front door, and felt the air rush out of her lungs when she saw the look on her parents’ faces. Something was very wrong.
After an evening of tears, Katie learned that her father had been diagnosed with liver cancer. Her parents were tight-lipped about the treatments, but they told Katie that her father would have surgery to remove a part of his liver and then he would have some other sort of procedure done involving electric current. Katie couldn’t stand it much longer and asked, “But will that get rid of it?”
Her mother’s eyes were rimmed in red too, and she told her daughter, “Cancer doesn’t really disappear, Katie. We learned that today. But if your dad’s lucky, it will go into remission.”
“What’s that mean?” Katie asked. But no answers her parents gave her were good answers. Her father was going to have a rough few months, and there was no guarantee he would live through it. It didn’t take Katie long to decide not to go to college hundreds of miles away in Boulder, even though everything had already been arranged and she had received a President’s Scholarship based on her grades and SAT scores. Several days later, Katie announced to her parents that she was staying home. They tried to talk her out of it, but it was evident to Katie that they were relieved to have her stay. She enrolled in Winchester Community College for classes starting later that month.
She worked a few hours every week and attended classes full time; what free time she had, she spent with her parents. She didn’t hear a word from Johnny until Christmas, and she didn’t tell him what was going on. When they talked, she didn’t tell Johnny that she was still living at home. He had no idea she had changed her plans, had thought she was visiting her parents for Christmas break, and didn’t learn that Katie attended school closer to home until a long while later. For all he knew at the time, Katie was getting a degree in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing.
Her dad fought and survived the cancer...for a time, at any rate. After Katie finished two years at the community college, she transferred her credits to a nearby university just an hour away. But the cancer never lost its foothold in his body, and her father was ill again when Katie graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Sociology. He continued to fight, though, and Katie and her mom did all they could to give him a reason to live. During her senior year, Katie interned at the local Child Protection office, and they offered her a position when she graduated. She took it. She was going to have plenty of student loans to pay off, and she already had the experience. The job paid more than she’d ever made in any other job, so it was easy enough to slide into the position.
Her father died that fall. Johnny’s mother must have told him, because he showed up at the funeral. It was the only time Katie had ever seen him wear a suit. He was a comfort to both her and her mom, and she was grateful he was there. He and Spawn were working on their second CD, so he could have easily told her “Sorry” over the phone and left it at that, so it meant a lot that he came.
Nothing ever filled the hole in her heart that the absence of her father left, but it became a little easier to deal with as time went on. The hole that Johnny left every time he exited the picture, however, never seemed to ease up, but Katie wondered later on if it was also what she’d done to herself. She would never regret staying home with her parents, because she’d never get the time with her father back. Her education too was superb, even if it wasn’t her dream career. But when she finally hooked up with Johnny that one night, it reminded her of all her youthful dreams--not just about Johnny, but about her future. It awakened a part of her that she had forgotten existed. And, reawakened, it could not be put to sleep again.
* * *
The “dressing room” was nothing more than a glorified closet. It had at one time been painted white but the paint was now a yellowed version of its former self. The room did have mirrors along one length as well as a countertop; directly across was a rod for clothes, and several wire hangers were tangled on it, and so, Katie supposed, it could be considered a dressing room, although any woman in her right mind would beg to differ. At the back of the room stood an old floor buffer that looked like it hadn’t been operated since Reagan had been President. The old tiles were yellow and gray and many of them were cracked and lined. Katie wondered what the other dressing room was like, if this one happened to be the better one. Sad if this was how the venue treated its stars. Of course, she knew that Johnny and his band didn’t care. The room they cared about was out there, where fans and bands could mingle. They were rock stars, for God’s sake, not models. She knew Johnny well enough to know he had probably spent no more than three minutes in here earlier tonight, if that.
And she had simply asked to talk with him anyway. Why should a cramped, dirty little room bother her? There would never be a perfect time or a perfect place to tell him what she felt, so she just needed to say what she had to say.
He shut the door and stood, facing Katie. “Well?” Katie drew in a deep breath. She was grateful that she wasn’t getting the vibes off him she had at their last face-to-face meeting. That night outside the bar when he could hardly stand to look at her was one of the worst nights of her life. She’d never felt so miserable as she had then, and she was convinced until today that she’d lost the best friend she ever had. She felt relieved now but knew there was still more she needed to say.
Johnny leaned back onto the counter, not sitting but no longer standing, his legs stretched out so that his eyes were almost level with Katie’s. There were no chairs to sit on in the room, and Katie was all right with that. This wasn’t that kind of conversation, and she didn’t need to relax. She took another deep breath before she began. “I just feel like we left things on a bad note the last time I saw you.”
Johnny shrugged, a wan smile on his face. “Hey. I’m over it, okay?” His smile finally moved up into his eyes a little bit. “No harm done. We’re still friends.”
“Yeah, but...” Katie forced herself to look in his eyes. “I just want you to know none of what happened was meant to intentionally hurt you.”
“Yeah, I know. You already told me that. And you’re forgiven, okay? We don’t have to keep talking about it.”
Katie swallowed. Wow. This was hard, and he wasn’t going to let her relieve her own guilty conscience. That was fair, she guessed. “Well, I just wanted to thank you, though, because if we hadn’t...done what we did...I would probably be married now and stuck in an endless, soul-sucking job for the rest of my life.”
Johnny’s mouth screwed up into a ball before he said, “I thought you liked your job.”
“I thought I was doing something important, and I was good at it, but I don’t think I could honestly say that I liked it. But...” Johnny finally raised his eyebrows, encouraging Katie to continue. “You remember what I planned to do a
fter high school?”
“Yeah. You’re were gonna write the great American novel.” Katie nodded. “Weren’t you going to go to CU or something and study English or creative writing or something like that?”
She nodded again. “Yeah, but I found out before I left that dad already had cancer. I couldn’t go. So I went to WCC and then transferred, and by then I already had plenty of credits that applied to sociology, and my advisor steered me there. There was no value to a creative writing degree, she said. Creative writing degrees were a dime a dozen. She told me I could write while working at a job that paid the bills. So I just did it--she told me sociology was a diverse and growing field, and I had the aptitude for it. And before you know it, I’m pulling bruised and broken kids out of alcoholic homes, neglected and sick kids out of meth homes, and counseling parents who have no clue how to keep a clean house and pay the bills. It’s an important job, but it was killing me.
“I don’t regret staying home to go to school. In fact, I think I would never have forgiven myself if I’d missed that time with dad. But you reminded me of how I felt when we were ready to leave school and conquer the world, when we had hopes and dreams, and...”
He lowered his head, peering into her eyes. “And?”
“Well, I’m going to school here in Denver now, working on an MFA in Creative Writing.”
“What’s an MFA?”
“A Master of Fine Arts. I should be done in another year or so.”
“So now you’re going for it.” She nodded. “That’s good, Katie. You should.” His face was unlined and earnest, his eyes peering into hers.
She had so much more to say, but she was now close up to him, her face less than a foot away from his, those dark blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes almost crying out to her. She wanted to profess her deepest feelings to him, but she didn’t think she’d be able to get the words right. Maybe on paper she would’ve had a chance, but here, live, she doubted herself. She wasn’t an impromptu stage performer like Johnny. And being near him again, all she could do was remember their one night together as they were meant to be. It had been almost a year ago, and yet she could remember the way his tongue tasted in her mouth, the way his back muscles had felt under her fingertips, the way his skin smelled, the way his hands felt on her breasts, her hips, her back. She couldn’t forget the feeling of being so close with someone who had meant so much to her for so long, who knew her inside better than anyone else and yet had never tasted her intimately until that one time. It was a perfect feeling, and it had lasted but a few short minutes, before the guilt had weighed her down. And now she had no reasons to feel guilty anymore. She stared into those eyes of his that were as blue as the Rockies on a clear day and couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She had no way to stop herself, and she watched as though from outside as her hands cupped his cheeks. She closed the gap between them and brushed his lips with hers.
But the brush became insistent. He seemed to pause at first as she kissed him, but he responded quickly. As her arms wound around his neck, his wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. And Katie thought that maybe her lips could say what her voice hadn’t been able to.
Their kisses became almost frantic. Johnny, still leaning against the counter, parted his knees to pull Katie up close so their bodies were touching. His hands rested on the small of her back, and there was no space between them. She paused and opened her eyes to look at him. Was this really what she wanted to do?
Yes. No words passed between them as she pressed her lips against his once again. She felt her breathing deepen and she wound her hands through his hair above his neck. She didn’t think she wanted to go too far tonight, but kissing him felt so right. She felt every nerve fiber stand on end, electric and tingling. Johnny’s expert tongue was warm and firm in her mouth and she decided she wanted to see just how far they could go.
She kept her left hand wound in Johnny’s hair but slid her right hand down his neck, down his chest to his waistband. She moved her hand underneath his shirt, slowly moving it back up, gently feeling one ridge of muscle after another. God, he was ripped. She glided her hand up to his pec and rubbed his nipple. He sucked on her bottom lip and then released it. As his lips moved to her neck, she moved her hand to his back. He began kissing her neck and she moaned. She pressed her fingers into the flesh of his smooth back and felt her nipples harden as he continued moving down her neck. “Oh, Johnny.” She felt him stiffen under his pants pressed up against her pelvis. Yeah, he felt too good, too good not to.
He stood up, breaking the connection with Katie, leaving her feeling disoriented. He moved the few feet to the door, half twisting the doorknob. She heard a sound of disgust exit his lips. He started looking around the room, then grabbed the old floor buffer and slid it across the room to in front of the door. Katie understood now--there was no lock on the door but it was going to happen, no doubt about it.
Johnny turned around to face her and picked her up, wrapping her legs around him. He assaulted her lips with his, and she opened them while he walked back to the counter and sat her on the edge. He parted from her and looked down at her corset. “God, you’re hot.” He kissed the top of her larger-than-usual right breast. “I have no clue how to even get this goddamn thing off you, so fuck it.” For an instant, Katie thought of Johnny’s impatience with her white satin blouse last year. He instead unbuttoned her jeans and then stuck his tongue back in her mouth, rubbing his hand on top of her panties.
She sucked in a deep breath and reached for his pants too. She couldn’t wait. She didn’t know what to say, only knew she was desperate. She didn’t want to say the cliché that she’d read in hundreds of women’s books, that she wanted him inside her. But she did. Badly. His other arm held her between her shoulder blades as her head hung back. He began kissing her just below the hollow in her neck. She arched her back. She unzipped his vinyl pants and reached her hand in, finding his rock-hard cock. “Just fuck me, Johnny.”
And so he did. She shimmied her panties and jeans down her thighs while he pulled a condom out of his wallet and in less than a minute he was inside her. One of his hands still supported her in the middle of her back; the other was cupped gently around a breast, his finger and thumb massaging the nipple through the corset. Her left arm rested on the small of his back and she moved her right hand up to his head, running her fingers through his hair again. She pulled his head toward her and opened her mouth to his. She wanted to take all of him as deeply as she could. And he felt so good. He moved in her rhythmically until her breathing grew deeper, deeper, when at last she climaxed and Johnny followed shortly after.
As their breathing slowed, Johnny rested his damp forehead against hers, still holding her up. Then she slumped so that the back of her head rested on the mirror. She felt exhausted. It had been a long day and an emotional night. But it was good. It was very good.
Chapter Thirteen
Katie stretched, pulling her jeans up. Johnny already had his pants zipped up again. His eyes seemed to sparkle and he had a slight grin on his face. Katie couldn’t imagine the future, but she knew that now everything would be all right, would be pretty close to perfect. She ran her fingers through her hair and couldn’t help but smile.
She felt shy talking to Johnny about it. Stupid. She had just fucked him in an uninhibited manner, dozens of people in the room next door, and now she was tongue tied? Besides that, they’d known each other since they were kids. And now she felt like she couldn’t even broach the subject? She bit the corner of her lip and drew in a deep breath. As she eased herself up to sit on the counter, she realized it emphasized how short she was as her legs dangled. But she felt at ease there. “So now what?” She could feel her cheeks were warm and flushed.
Johnny was smoothing the vinyl fabric on his thighs. He looked up. “Well, I say we go back to the party and eat us some beers.”
Katie chuckled in the back of her throat. Leave it to Johnny. “No, I mean...us.”
Johnny
straightened up. He looked up and shook his head. “What d’ya mean? Nothing’s really changed, has it?”
Katie felt the smile wane, but she refused to believe anything was amiss. “Yeah. It kinda has.”
Johnny reached down, tugging at the tongue of his right boot, straightening it out. He looked up. “No, not really.” He finished messing with the tongue and stood again, leaning his left shoulder against the wall where the floor buffer had once been, looking at her. Katie didn’t say anything but felt her eyebrows draw together slightly. “Here’s the way I see it. We were friends walking in here; we’re friends when we leave.” Katie nodded as though each up-and-down motion were a chore. “And, hell, it’ll be nice to have a friend here in Colorado when I tour. You’ll be my woman at this port.” He held one hand over his chest and stuck the other in the air. “I promise you’ll be the only woman I fuck in Colorado or any adjoining states.” His eyes moved to her breasts and then back to her eyes. “And, shit, wear that fuckin’ Renaissance top next time I’m here, and I’ll try to figure out how it works. God, that makes your rack look incredible.”
What the hell was he saying? Katie felt like she was hearing a foreign language that she was having to translate as it hit her ears, and it delayed her response. Finally, she felt her mouth slacken in disbelief, but she still couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Her face must have given her away, though, because Johnny stood up straight and said, “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? A friend with benefits?”
Katie finally found her breath. “Is that what you think?”
Johnny smirked, the corner of his mouth turning upward. “Where does thought come into play? Have we actually thought about any of this?” His eyes lost their twinkle and grew cold.
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